


Asleep

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22473922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Hank reports to Amanda and her pet.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He hates visiting the head of CyberLife; their new CEO is even worse than the last one, in his not-so-humble opinion. She’s a shriveled old woman that maybe should be harmless, but the look in her eyes is absolutely ruthless, and the very fact that she makes human detectives drive all the way out to her office is a power move in itself: she’s just demonstrating the vice-like grip she has on all of Detroit. Hank pulls into the parking lot outside and hates that the two dead-eyed androids there let him right in, because he has to do this way too often.

He heads for the main building—a big, octagonal, ugly thing looming in the hillside, but a motionless android on the path sends him the other way. He didn’t think she’d actually be in her office anyway. Hank’s never seen Amanda actually work. He only ever finds her milling aimlessly about the gardens, listening but saying little, like a puppet master too comfortable behind the curtains, because she knows she owns the stage.

Sure enough, he spots her across the pure-white paving stones that arch up over the artificial river. She’s pruning the roses, even though she must have androids for that—or maybe she’s just _pretending_ to be useful. Maybe she’s trying to look more _natural_ , like she belongs in the gorgeous landscape she’s decimated with inorganic structures. Hank just sees a snake.

Hank sees his not-quite-partner with her, hovering just at her side, holding up a parasol. The sun’s not even that bright. It seems to Hank that Amanda just likes to treat him like a coat-rack, another piece of furniture, and she always drags him out to show off when Hank’s around. He could swear she’s taunting him. 

He doesn’t give her the satisfaction. He doesn’t look at Connor, even though his eyes are _always_ drawn to Connor for one reason or another. First it was because Connor’s so fucking _perfect_ , and that grated on him, and now it’s because Connor’s _so fucking perfect_ and it kills Hank to know he has to go home to another human. 

Hank comes close enough for Amanda to leisurely greet, “Lieutenant.” She doesn’t even do him the courtesy of looking over, though he knows she’s watching him in her peripherals. He’s watching Connor in his. Connor’s brown eyes are all over him, and Hank projects that Connor’s thinking _save me, lieutenant. Take me away from here._

That really is projecting. Hank knows Connor’s loyal. Amanda muses, “You failed the case at the Eden club. The suspect got away.”

Hank almost growls _your pet failed too_ , but he doesn’t want to give Amanda any reason to reset that pet. He grunts instead, “It happens.”

Amanda finally sets her trimmers down on the nearby table. She turns to look at him and drawls, “Leave us.”

Connor automatically goes, taking his thin umbrella with him. He rigidly strolls past Hank, except Hank reaches out and grabs Connor’s wrist—Connor instantly halts. His gaze bores into Hank, full of so much more _depth_ than Amanda gives him credit for.

Hank says, “Connor was invaluable to the investigation. If you’d leave him overnight at the station—”

“Yes,” Amanda cuts in, brushing him right off. “I’m sure it was of some use to you, but that usefulness ends here. Connor. Go.”

Connor breaks free of Hank’s hand and drifts away. Hank’s whole chest constricts. He listens to Connor’s retreating steps: a brilliant detective left entirely out of the conversation. Amanda acts like he really is just _plastic_.

Hank grits his teeth and listens to her. But inside, he’s hoping with all his heart that someday Connor breaks free, just like the deviants that they keep letting go.


End file.
